


Happy Birthentine's Day

by Pawdiatrician (WhatTheDog)



Series: Take the Bone Away [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Birthday, Coming of Age, M/M, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 15:56:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20678009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatTheDog/pseuds/Pawdiatrician
Summary: It always seemed like a cruel joke from the universe that Malcolm had been born on Valentine’s Day. Every year it served as reminder of how unpopular and unwanted he was, his classmates muttering out some half-hearted “Happy Birthday” before handing Valentine’s cards to everyone but him. No matter what, Malcolm had never looked forward to the annual 24-hour period, and he had long accepted that he probably never would.But that was before he had friends. And Brad. Maybe this year would be different. Maybe this year he would have a good day.





	Happy Birthentine's Day

**Author's Note:**

> Again, another short story like The Atomic Burrito that I wrote for Take the Bone Away. This one takes place after the events of the main story, and is a mostly lighthearted story about Malcolm being a total spaz when it comes to romance. Hope you enjoy. 
> 
> (Contains spoilers for Take the Bone Away)

It had always seemed like a cruel joke from the universe that Malcolm had been born on Valentine’s Day. Every year it served as reminder of how unpopular and unwanted he was, his classmates muttering out some half-hearted “_Happy Birthday_” before handing Valentine’s cards to everyone but him. Even at home, a swell of guilt still arose at his parents neglecting the day for his sake, despite them celebrating it the next. No matter what, Malcolm had never looked forward to the annual twenty-four hour period, and he had long accepted that he probably never would.

“Hey, Malcolm,” Bianca started as they hung out after school one day, “when’s your birthday?”

“Oh... um...” He shifted for a moment, scratching the top of his head. “It’s in February.”

“Cool, but what day?”

He averted his gaze at her warm smile. “The fourteenth...”

He swore he could sense her eyebrows furrowing as she asked, “The same day as Valentine’s Day?”

“Yeah...”

“Holy shit, your birthday is VALENTINE’S DAY!?” Chelsea shrieked. She grinned like a Cheshire cat. “Man, your future significant other hit the jackpot.”

Bianca shot her a look, but Malcolm couldn’t help but crack up. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

Chelsea stared off dreamily. “This is amazing. There are so jokes we could make, so much potential for punnery.” She rubbed her hands together. “I’ll have to enlist Ethan, Brad, and Elijah for help with your card. I’m sure one of them will have valuable input.”

Speaking of Ethan, he and Adam did not have quite as explosive a reaction as Chelsea when they found out. They had been working out when the topic came up, and Malcolm mentioned the dual nature of his birthday.

“Huh, Valentine’s Day,” Adam said. “I guess it’s better than being born on Christmas.”

“Hell yeah, it is.” Ethan laughed. “You get chocolate AND cake. What more could you want?”

What more could he want? Well, perhaps a day that didn’t remind him of how lonely he was. If he was being really optimistic, a special someone with whom he could spend the day. It had always been hard feeling unloved on a holiday devoted to the celebration of romance. Doubly so when even platonic relationships seemed to be out of his grasp.

But then again, that’s how it was in the past, back when he didn’t have friends. Maybe this year he would actually enjoy the day. Maybe this year would be different.

***

As the months went by and February drew ever nearer, the topic of Malcolm’s birthday became more and more relevant.

“What do you want to do for your birthday?” his parents would ask, to which he’d always respond with a shrug. The answer was the same for his friends’ queries.

“We’ll figure out something fun to do,” Adam said one day. “Do you like bowling? We could go bowling.”

“Bowling is fine.” Malcolm played with his jacket. “I guess I always thought it would be fun to have a bowling party.”

“See?” Adam clapped him on the shoulder. “Bowling it is! I’ll tell everybody else.”

Several hours later, Malcolm still couldn’t stop thinking about the prospect of a party. Scenario after scenario played in his mind as he got ready for bed. It was almost an alien concept to him—an actual birthday party with other people, _friends _even. He smiled, bouncing on the balls of his feet. What a nice change of pace. Heck, even last year with Curtis—

An involuntary tremor went through him. Slowly, he grasped his pajama pants, willing his breathing to return to normal. Shaking his head, he rubbed the bridge of his nose, scolding his psyche. When he finally felt calm enough, he lay down, pulling the covers over his head.

_Don’t think about him right now_. He clenched his teeth. _Don’t think about him. _

***

_“Fucking A!” Curtis groaned. “I died again.” He dropped the controller and glowered at the TV screen. “This is the dumbest fucking boss fight, I swear to God.”_

_ Malcolm nodded, the corners of his lips turned up in a smile. “Git gud,” he said, to which Curtis shoved him in the shoulder, rolling his eyes. _

_As Malcolm giggled, Curtis leaned back with a perplexed frown. “This is really random... but I just realized I have no idea what day’s your birthday.”_

_ “Oh... it’s Valentine’s Day.”_

_ Curtis’ mouth fell open. “Are you shitting me?”_

_ Malcolm sighed. “No, I am not... not kidding you.” At Curtis’ cackle, he made a face. “What’s so funny? It’s just a day.”_

_ “Oh, I dunno.” Curtis wiped his eyes and grinned. “It’s just that most people are born nine months AFTER Valentine’s Day, not on it.” _

_Malcolm grimaced while Curtis’ smile grew sly. _

_“So... what **is **nine months before Valentine’s Day? That would be... May, right?”_

_ He sighed again. “Curtis, that’s gross.”_

_ “Yeah, it is, but that’s when it happened, at least assuming you weren’t premature or some shit.”_

_ “I wasn’t.”_

_ “All right, then May is when it happened.” Curtis tilted his head. “I know your dad’s birthday is in September, so when is your mom’s?” _

_Malcolm lowered his gaze as Curtis prompted, “Well?”_

_ “May,” he whispered._

_ Curtis looked like he just won a million dollars. “No fucking way! That’s hilarious!”_

_ “Haha,” Malcolm muttered tersely as Curtis howled with laughter._

_ “Birthday sex baby!” he crowed. “Birthday sex baby!”_

***

“All right, you’ve NEVER played _Breath of the Wild_ before?”

Brad shook his head sheepishly at Malcolm’s astonished stare. “Calm thyself,” he started, mouth curling into a smile at the continued look of disbelief, “I want to, but I just never got around to buying it.”

Malcolm scoffed. It had been two days since Chelsea’s celebratory party for Adam’s prosthetic limb, and they’d spent almost every second playing video games together. For the most part, their tastes were identical, but whenever there was a discrepancy…

Before Brad could say anything else, Malcolm hopped to his feet and ran over to the stack of video games on his bookshelf. Once armed with the desired game, he moved to face Brad, who watched from the foot of the bed while he launched into an explanation of gameplay and story.

“Okay, so it’s like any standard _Legend of Zelda _game. You play Link, right? And there’s Zelda and Ganon and the Triforce. But in this one, Link has been asleep for a hundred years and Ganon has been sealed in Hyrule Castle and—”

He prattled on in that manner, Brad listening with an upturned mouth, cheek resting on his closed fist. Finally, Malcolm ran out of things to say and took a breath to recover from the long-winded spiel.

“Thanks for the introduction,” Brad said. “But I actually do know the story. I’ve watched a Let’s Play.”

Malcolm was blindsided. “What!? Then why didn’t you stop me? I’ve been talking your ear off for the past two minutes.”

He shrugged. “I dunno. You’re cute when you’re excited.”

Heat blossomed in Malcolm’s cheeks. He fidgeted, looking away from the smiling boy seated on his bed.

“You okay?” Brad asked, and he nodded hurriedly.

“Fine. Just... fine.”

***

“Bianca, am I cute?”

Bianca paused, pen hovering over her homework as she lifted her head to look at his pensive face. Setting the pen down on her dining room table, she smiled. “Of course you are.”

This just made him frown and scowl down at his own homework. “No, I mean... like, actual looks-wise am I... you know... decent? Would you call me attractive?”

She bit her lip. “Well, I think you look fine, but I don’t really look at you that way—”

“I know, but could you see somebody else finding me attractive?”

“Of course!” She laughed. “If you’re feeling self-conscious, don’t. You’re a very cute person. Why are you asking?”

“Oh... well.” He shrugged. “I just... someone told me I was cute, just kind of an off-hand comment. I don’t know if he meant it that way, but I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Malcolm,” Bianca said, leaning forward, “you are absolutely _adorable_ and don’t ever tell yourself otherwise. Have some confidence.”

All he could do was stammer as she laughed once more.

***

“Brr, it’s cold,” Chelsea said. Immediately, Ethan wrapped an arm around her, and she snuggled up against him as they walked down the street.

From behind the couple, Janie made a face. “It’s only the first day of February, and yet they’re already revolting,” she muttered to Malcolm.

Normally, he would have let out an exasperated sigh at the comment, but his mind was elsewhere today. “Hey, Janie,” he murmured.

“Hmm?”

“Do you think I’m cute?”

She made another face. “Why the heck are you asking me? I think all boys look like turnips, remember?”

“All right,” he groaned. “Then... how did you and Chelsea start dating?”

She stared at him. “What... how is that—you know what, sure, story time.” She cleared her throat. “Um... we were friends... and then one day after school one of us made a joke about making out and then... yeah. I mean, the only reason we dated was because there are basically no queer girls in Wesley. We broke up after, like, three weeks.”

“How,” Malcolm started, struggling to form the proper words, “how did you know you weren’t right for each other?”

At this, Janie looked away. “I guess... we both just figured out we were better as friends. Like, she’s a very independent person and I’m... I like reassurance. I like talking all the time and she couldn’t stand that, so... we figured it out pretty fast.” She smiled faintly. “Chelsea always thought it was funny when I met Mina. I’m so clingy, and yet I’m in a long-distance relationship—but if your personalities match, you can make it work.”

Malcolm nodded, thoughts still swirling inside of his head. “I... I’ll keep that in mind.”

***

Three days after his conversation with Janie, Malcolm went over to Brad’s house.

“So is _Overwatch _okay? I didn’t really have anything else planned,” Brad said, pulling out a chair for Malcolm to sit.

He did, hesitantly, and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine with whatever.” He deliberated for a moment before adding, “I know I’ll have a good time if I’m hanging out with you.”

He anxiously watched the other boy’s face and, to both his relief and disappointment, Brad simply beamed and chirped, “Thanks!”

_Was I too subtle? Did he know I was flirting and ignore it? Am I misreading everything? _Malcolm fidgeted in his seat until Brad finished setting up the game.

He handed Malcolm a controller, then pulled up a chair next to him. “All right, all done!”

They played a few matches, Malcolm still analyzing every move and action from the past few minutes, when Brad sighed and stretched. “Man, I think I need a break. Want something to drink?”

In response to Malcolm’s nod, they headed upstairs into the kitchen, where Brad grabbed pop for them both.

“Crazy that it’s February already, right?” He shook his head, chuckling. “It’ll be Valentine’s Day before anybody knows it.”

Again, Malcolm internally warred with himself before meekly offering, “And my birthday.”

Brad blinked. “Oh, your birthday is in February?”

“Yeah. It... uh... it’s actually on Valentine’s Day.”

Brad snorted, wiping pop from his nose. “Well damn, I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing.”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “It’s such a fun holiday, with all the chocolates and romance, so it could be doubly fun for you since you get all the birthday perks, too. But then again, most people I know who have a holiday birthday usually don’t like it because they actually end up getting ripped off on both fronts.” Brad smiled at him, quirking an eyebrow. “You got any plans?”

All of Malcolm’s mental functions ground to a halt before coming back with a vengeance. _He’s flirting with me, he has to be, oh my God, oh my God, what do I do? Wait, am I reading too much into this again? Is it okay to flirt back? But what do I say? Do I say, “Well, that depends on what **you’re **doing”? Nonononono, that’s too corny, but I need something to say!_

To his dismay, the only thing he managed to squeak out was, “I’m having a bowling party that Friday if you wanna come.”

Brad grinned. “Sure!”

It was a perfectly adequate response, but Malcolm kicked himself long after for not being

honest.

***

Careful not to tilt the container, Malcolm set down the box full of art supplies on the table. Mary beamed at him from the side as he stared absentmindedly into its contents.

“I do this every year!” she chirped, bustling about her lavish kitchen. “I know a lot of people hated making Valentine’s cards back in grade school, but it was one of my favorite things. So I kept doing it for all my friends, and I don’t plan on stopping now.” She arranged some markers on the table. “You’re welcome to make something too, if you want.”

Malcolm nodded, prodding some construction paper in the box, his mind elsewhere. He almost jumped as Mary cleared her throat.

“Earth to Malcolm, hey! Will you hand me the scissors?”

“Oh! Yes!” He pulled the object out and handed it over. “Sorry, I was just thinking about something else.”

Mary laughed, waving away his concerns. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I know I get carried away sometimes.”

He shook his head. “It’s not that. I like your enthusiasm. I’m not tuning you out.”

“Oh…” Lowering her gaze, she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks… uh—” She pointed to their respective chairs. “How about we get started?” She sat down in a chair—Malcolm across from her—and began humming a tune, cutting out shapes from some old wrapping paper.

After a couple minutes, she asked, “So I know it’s your birthday that day, but you got any plans for Valentine’s Day?”

“No.” He poked a packet of glitter. “Just the bowling party on Friday.”

“Yeah... um...” Mary cleared her throat again, tugging one of her pink-tipped locks. “I mean, since you’re free... you wanna watch a movie or something that night?”

“I don’t think I can. My parents will probably want to spend the evening with me.” He idly flicked a pencil across the table, and her cutting stopped.

“Oh, yeah, of course. That makes sense...”

“Hey, Mary?”

She jumped at his sudden question. “Y-yeah?”

“Do you think I’m cute?” He looked up to meet her gaze and was surprised to see her cheeks flooded with color.

“Well, I mean... yes, that’s why... um... I was...”

“So you think it’s totally possible somebody would flirt with me? And how would I know?”

Mary reddened further. “I... well, maybe they would... um... ask you to see a movie with them... on Valentine’s Day...”

His brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

She slid down in her chair, face almost entirely scarlet. “I’m... I’m asking you out...”

At that moment, everything clicked. Malcolm sputtered uselessly for a second as Mary slid lower in her chair. When his voice returned, he stammered out, “W-why... why would you ask me out?”

“Because I like you,” she half-whispered.

Groaning, he put his face in his hands. “Oh geez, do you seriously not know?”

“Not know what?”

He glanced up to find her looking stricken, and guilt washed over him. “Mary... I’m _gay. _I thought you knew.”

Her face crumpled. “No... but... y-you...” Tears poured out of her eyes as her shoulders started to shake. “I... I’m so _stupid! _I just thought—I mean, I was worried you had a crush on Bianca, but... then you spent all this time with me... and back when I was sort of dating Curtis you seemed kind of upset, so I thought that maybe you were jealous of him and—”

“Mary,” Malcolm sighed. He got up from his end of the table and moved to her side, enveloping her in a hug. “It’s okay. You are not stupid.”

“But what am I supposed to do now?” she sobbed. “I’m going to be alone on Valentine’s Day!” She let out a loud sniff. “I’m going to be a boyfriend-less loser!”

Malcolm had to refrain from hitting his forehead. “There is nothing wrong with being alone on Valentine’s Day. You don’t need a boyfriend!”

_Pot calling the kettle black?_

He ignored the thought.

She nodded slowly, burrowing her face into his chest. A muffled “okay” sounded, and he relaxed slightly, even though his mind still raced.

If Mary thought he was attractive... then it wasn’t too far-fetched for Brad to do so as well, right? This was hope for him. Now he had proof...

_But then again, _a voice snickered, _you’re ignoring the **other **time somebody thought you were attractive. _

Unwanted memories flashed through his mind, and he squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing Mary’s back in some effort to distract himself.

***

_Malcolm stared down at the card. Underneath a cartoonish picture of a bee, the garish yellow of “**BEE MY VALENTINE?**” nearly leaped off the cover. He opened it, then furrowed his brow before deciphering Curtis’ messy scrawl to say, “**Happy birthday loser (jk)**.”_

_When he closed it, he made a face. “Um... thanks?” He started moving down the school hallway as Curtis fell into step beside him._

_ “Aw, come on. It’s funny! That bee is so fucking creepy-looking, I couldn’t pass it up!”_

_ Malcolm sighed. “Yeah, it is, but I’ll have to hide this from my parents. They’ll get the wrong idea if they see it.”_

_ Curtis frowned. “I thought they were okay with you being gay.”_

_ “I mean, eventually, yeah... but…” Malcolm looked away. ”I don’t know how they would react if I ever got a boyfriend.”_

_ “Ohhhhh, I see,” Curtis said. “So they’re okay with you being gay as long as you don’t ever act on it.”_

_ “I don’t actually know that!” Malcolm fidgeted, tugging on his backpack strap. “I’m just... being cautious. I don’t want them to think something’s going on between us when there isn’t.”_

_“But what if there is?” Curtis laughed and fluttered his eyelashes. “Maybe I did mean it in that way.”_

_ Scowling, Malcolm rolled his eyes while the other boy burst into another fit of laughter. _

***

“Happy birthday, sweetie!”

Malcolm finished unwrapping the _Game of Thrones _board game, then smiled. “Thanks, this is really cool.”

Mom beamed. “I thought you’d like something intricate.”

“Yeah.” He set it down. “I’ll try to convince people to play it at the next time we hang out. This is pretty sweet.”

“Maybe so,” Dad laughed, “but so is cake!”

“I’ll go get it!” Mom hopped to her feet. “Just give me one moment.” She hurried off.

As she left, Dad grinned at Malcolm while he nervously tapped his fingers on the table. “Hey, Dad,” he started, glancing down at his tapping fingers, “I... uh... how would you react... if I started dating someone...”

The smile faded from Dad’s face. “Oh... like a... you know...”

“Yeah, like a boy.”

He shifted awkwardly, lowering his gaze. “Malcolm, this isn’t... this isn’t about me." He sighed, resting his arms on the table. "You don't need my permission to do something like that. I just want you to be happy, okay? And so does your mom.”

Malcolm nodded, a lump forming in his throat.

There was another sigh, then Dad flashed an uncertain smile. “So... don’t worry about it,” he said. “I don’t want you regretting this period of your life.”

“Time to sing ‘_Happy Birthday,’_” Mom called out, causing both of them to jerk at the noise.

While Mom and Dad sang, Malcolm gazed into the flickering light of the candles. He listened to the last few notes of the song, and couldn’t help the cautious optimism that filled him to the brim.

***

Falling pins echoed around the alley, and the occasional thud of a bowling ball added a crisp accent to the intermittent racket. From his seat, Malcolm watched Ethan line up his ball. Fidgeting, he couldn’t help but wish the special bowling shoes were more comfortable.

“Hey, Malcolm!”

He turned to where a grinning Chelsea held a card in her outstretched hand.

“Forgot to give you this with the comic books, sorry about that.”

He thanked her, then turned his attention to the folded paper. On the cover of the card, she had written, “_Happy Birthentine’s Day_.” Upon opening it, Malcolm had to choke back a belly laugh: an angry-looking humanoid creature made out of Valentine’s chocolates shook its fist, with the words above it spelling out, “_You idiot! It’s Birthentine’s monster, not Birthentine!”_

He snorted in amusement. “’_Birthentine’s monster_’, really?”

“Brad and I came up with that,” Chelsea giggled. She pointed to the chocolate monster. “And Ethan painted that. Pretty good, huh?”

He nodded as Ethan rejoined the group.

“Okay, that’s match! Tally up the scores!”

All of the various groups did so amidst playful bickering, eventually finding out that Ethan, Brad, and Bianca were the winners. Everyone congratulated each other on a good game, and afterward, Malcolm clapped his hands together.

“My parents told me that people are welcome to hang out at my place. Anybody interested?”

“Sounds great, but I should probably get home,” Chelsea said.

Ethan nodded. “Unfortunately, I’m the same. I gotta get up early tomorrow.”

Adam, Elijah, Toby, and Janie also added their voices to the mix, apologizing for their unavailability.

“I’ll come over,” Bianca offered, to which Mary and Brad chimed in as well. Once everyone had said their goodbyes, they split up and headed their respective ways.

Several minutes later, Malcolm’s entourage arrived at his house. Mary hopped out of Brad’s car. “I want to play with Cooper.”

“All right,” Malcolm laughed. “But don’t make too much noise. My parents are probably going to bed pretty soon.”

“I promise!” she giggled.

All of them headed inside and released Cooper from his crate. As he bounded along at their feet, they meandered to the backyard, where they tossed balls and sticks for him to fetch. Malcolm’s skin crawled at the sight of the back alley beyond the fence, but he ignored the feeling for the sake of his friends.

Eventually, Mary’s dad came to pick her up, and Bianca decided to walk home as well. The girls bade Malcolm goodnight, excitedly wishing him one last “_Happy Birthday,_” and then he was alone with Brad.

“So... um... what time do you have to be home by?” he asked, idly scratching his arm as he did so.

Brad shrugged. “I don’t have a curfew.” He laughed. “But if you’re tired, don’t sweat it. I won’t be offended if you want me to go.”

“No, it’s fine!” Malcolm insisted. “Do you want to go to the living room?”

“Sure, why not?”

They made their way through the house, shed their coats by the front door, and then sat down on the sofa in the living room. As Brad gazed around the room, a wistful smile played on his lips. “Your parents sure have a lot of baby pictures of you in here.”

Heat crept into Malcolm’s cheeks. “Yeah... um... my mom got a little carried away when decorating.” He coughed. “Only child problems, you know?”

“Yeah... my parents wanted more after me, but my mom had ovarian cancer, so... that kind of killed that...”

“Oh.” Malcolm shifted uncomfortably, “I... I’m so sorry to hear that.”

Brad shrugged again. “Nah, I caused her enough gray hairs by myself. Trust me, I think she’s secretly glad.” He gestured to Malcolm. “So have you ever wanted siblings?”

“Uh...” Malcolm scratched his hand, wishing he could figure out a way to direct the conversation to what was actually on his mind. “Sometimes. I was pretty lonely growing up... but then I’d have to share my room, and I don’t know if I’d like that or not.”

Brad laughed. “Yeah, no kidding. I always had to share my room when family was in town. Total lack of privacy. And my cousin snores like an asthmatic cat.”

Malcolm giggled. “Yeah...” He stared into Brad’s brown eyes, noting the shadows that fell on his face from his glasses. One strand of his dark hair fell across his left eye, and a compulsory need to brush it away nearly consumed Malcolm. He swallowed the urge and asked, “So... how long have you known you were... um... bi?”

A smile tugged at the corner of Brad’s lips. “Middle school. I was re-watching _Aladdin _and realized that, holy crap, both Jasmine _and_ Aladdin were hot.”

“No way!” Laughter bubbled up from Malcolm’s stomach, and he had to cover his mouth to muffle the noise. “I had a crush on Aladdin too! Not Jasmine, but... eh.”

Brad chuckled. “Disney protagonists—turning children gay since the thirties.”

Malcolm was about to respond when Brad’s hand gently grasped his. All of his mental processes seemed to go out the door. Brad scooted a little closer, and his breath hitched in his throat. _This is it, I can’t believe it, but it’s actually happening. _

Again, Malcolm stared into Brad’s eyes, wishing his nerve-addled brain could come up with something romantic and sweet, but all he could think about was how warm and inviting that particular shade of brown appeared and how much he wanted to get lost in it forever. He leaned forward, slowly, not wanting to push any boundaries, and his heart skipped a beat as Brad did the same.

They were so close. Just a couple more inches and then the thing he’d been wanting for so long—

“**_Now that this happened, I realized that I've actually been wanting to do it for a while._**”

With a gasp, Malcolm jerked back in horror.

Brad mirrored the motion, surprise etched onto every feature of his face. “What’s wrong?”

Malcolm couldn’t speak. His chest heaved, pulse racing, mouth drier than ever. The boy sitting in front of him looked so apologetic, even though he hadn’t done anything wrong, and Malcolm became aware of the moisture trickling down his face.

“Hey, I’m sorry... I—”

“You should go home,” he managed to choke out. He suddenly couldn’t bring himself to look at Brad, self-loathing coursing through him like venom.

“I... yeah, of course. I’ll go.”

Malcolm squeezed his eyes shut, digging his nails into his palm as Brad walked to the front door and left.

Once he was alone, the tears came in full force. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop them, and before long he was full-on hyperventilating.

_I need a bathroom_. He ran off to find one, almost stumbling in his haste.

He vomited for a solid minute when he arrived. Even when nothing remained in his stomach, he still dry-heaved, trying to rid his mouth of the horrible lingering memory of a slimy tongue and sharp teeth.

Eventually, his stomach quieted and he leaned against the tile wall of the bathroom, shoulders shaking with his muffled sobs.

_Why am I like this? Why do I have to ruin everything?_

He brought his knees to his chest and continued to cry. His head pounded, and his tears gradually turned into hiccups.

After what seemed like an eternity, he finally managed to get up. Sniffling, he walked to the front door and locked it before heading upstairs, where he changed into pajamas. Crawling into bed, he buried his face into his pillow, wishing the night could have ended on any other note.

***

This particular nightmare was always the same. He was crushed against the creature’s chest, the clawed fingers gripping his hair while that awful tongue violated his mouth. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t _stand _the horrible smacking noises their connected lips made. The only action he could manage was a weak whimper as tears leaked out of his eyes.

Just like every other time, Curtis finally pulled away, a strand of saliva bridging the gap between them for just a second. He nuzzled Malcolm’s nose, moving his head back just far enough so that his half-lidded reptilian eyes were visible.

“**_You ready to go?_**”

***

“Hi, what’s up, Malcolm?”

Malcolm took a deep breath, holding the phone against his ear. “Mary, is there any way that I could come over... or you come over here or... something?”

There was a pause before she replied, “Let me go ask my dad if he’ll give me a ride. Since it’s Saturday, he shouldn’t be busy.”

He shifted his weight, wiping one of his clammy hand on his pants as he waited. Eventually, Mary’s voice sounded again. “Yeah, he says it’s fine. I’ll be over in about twenty minutes, okay?”

“Sounds great.”

“All right, bye!”

The line went dead. He lowered the phone, staring down at the floor. _Twenty minutes... _

Not too long after, there was a knock on the door. As Mary entered, she gave him a hug, but her smile faded when she looked at his face. “Something the matter?”

He nodded and beckoned her to follow him. Once inside his room, he sat on his bed, and Mary hesitantly took the spot next to him. Gripping his pants, he exhaled slowly. “Mary, how do you deal with the memories of your time with Curtis?”

She bristled. “I... what?”

“I’m sorry.” Malcolm shook his head, glancing at her remorsefully. “I know you probably don’t want to talk about it... but I could really use some tips.”

“Well”—she fiddled with her skirt—“I don’t know if our problems are the same. Like, I guess as far as I know, you didn’t have sex with him...”

He nodded. “I get that. But just... how do you cope? When it starts eating at you, what do you do? You asked me out, so you must be feeling at least somewhat okay about starting new relationships with people.”

Mary furrowed her brow. “I... guess I try to focus on something else, not let the bad thoughts get to me too mu—why are you asking me?”

Malcolm flinched at her tone of voice, and her harsh eyes softened.

“Were you and Curtis a thing or something? I’m just... really confused as to why any of my experiences are relevant.”

He looked away. “It... it’s complicated, okay? I don’t really know how to explain it.”

Mary shifted beside him, then rested her head on his shoulder. “Malcolm, whatever you felt or whatever happened... don’t beat yourself up. That’s what I did for a while. But eventually, I told myself that the past doesn’t define me and neither does my relationship with him.” She chuckled. “Well, actually that’s what _you _told me. Everybody makes mistakes or has regrets. It’s hard, but sometimes you have to say, ‘_I forgive myself, no matter what, and I am not going to let that happen again!_’ Like I said, it’s hard... but one step at a time, you know?”

He laughed softly, wiping away a couple stray tears. “All right,” he breathed. “I’ll try.”

***

The last bell of the day rang, and Malcolm hurried out of the makeshift classroom to grab his books for homework. As far as Mondays went, it hadn’t felt terribly long, but he wasn’t very focused on school right now. He kept thinking about the events of Friday night, kept kicking himself for letting something as dumb as bad memories get in the way of a budding romance, kept musing over Mary’s words on Saturday—

“Malcolm!”

He tensed at the sound of his name. The voice... he knew who it was.

“Malcolm, wait up!”

Slowly, he turned to face a rather out-of-breath Brad brushing his shaggy hair out of his eyes.

“Hey, sorry to bother you, but I just feel really bad about what happened on Friday and I just—”

“It’s okay,” he squeaked. “Wanna walk together?”

Brad blinked, mouth opening and closing for a moment. “Yeah... I... sure.”

The conversation was awkward the entire way to Malcolm’s house. They made small talk, not about anything in particular, and—to Malcolm’s dismay—his house came into view before he was mentally prepared for it.

“You can come inside if you want,” he offered.

Brad stood stationary, watching him, then snapped to attention. “Uh... all right.”

They headed inside, and Malcolm tilted his head toward the living room.

Brad tensed. “Hey, listen... I’m so sorry for what happened and I—”

Malcolm shook his head and again tilted it toward the living room. When Brad’s face remained uncertain, he sighed. “I’m not mad, okay? Will you please come sit with me?”

Brad nodded hurriedly. “Yes, of course... um...” He scratched his neck before finally acquiescing to Malcolm’s request, their arrangement on the sofa almost identical from the other night.

Playing with his hands, Brad glanced around the room, a pained expression evident on his face. Malcolm swallowed. He wished he had a better way to steel his nerves. “Brad, you didn’t do anything wrong, so don’t be upset.”

“I just want us to continue being friends,” he murmured, tugging on his coat sleeves.

Malcolm’s throat closed up momentarily. “Yeah, me too.” He took Brad’s hand in his and gave a small squeeze. “I want that too. In fact, that’s kind of what I wanted to say. That maybe I’m not ready for... for what happened on Friday, but... I think you’re cool and I want to still be friends with you.” He laughed softly. “And... if you’re willing to give me time, maybe... someday we can try again?”

Brad nodded. “All right.” A shadow of a smile crossed his face, and Malcolm rested his head against his shoulder.

“All right,” he whispered back.

And in the relative quiet, Malcolm was relieved to find that this time, no memories of Curtis showed up once.

**End**

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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